


Be My Sunshine

by PetitMinou



Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: F/M, Ladrien June
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-01
Updated: 2016-07-03
Packaged: 2018-07-11 14:41:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 11,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7056685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PetitMinou/pseuds/PetitMinou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Drabble series for the 30 days of Ladrien June<br/>Day 1: Love Poem</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Love Poem

**Author's Note:**

> Well I don't wanna jinx it, but I have five days done already so hopefully, unless I get too ambitious with my fills, I should hit all the days!  
> Read this and my other Miraculous works on my tumblr at [konekorambles](konekorambles.tumblr.com/tagged/mlwriting). Also I'm always taking prompts!

Adrien may be a little bit naïve. Or possibly, as Plagg puts it, unbelievably clueless. But there’s no way he could miss how different his Lady acts around him when he’s not transformed. At first he chalks it up to his celebrity status being slightly intimidating—(“Don’t get a swelled head kid.” “Shut up, Plagg.”)—but what if?

He finally puts it to the test on Valentine’s Day. After last year’s fiasco he’s not going to tell her anything directly, but maybe there’s another way.

“How many people can get akumatized by one stupid holiday?” Ladybug complains.

Chat makes a grunt of agreement from where he’s draped across a girder of the Eiffel Tower.

“I had _plans_ for today,” she continues, her own head falling back with a dull clang. “I was actually going to follow through on them for once.”

He slits open one eye, takes in her put-out expression. “Well you’re in luck, my Lady. I know you have at least one admirer today.”

“Other than you, tomcat.” She nudges him in the side with a toe, and he squawks.

“Hey! And other than me, I mean.” His heart is in his throat, and he does his best to sound casual. “You remember that kid, Adrien?”

Ladybug actually _blushes._ “A-adrien?”

He sits up, cocking his head. Her _ears_ are red. Interesting. “Yeah. Adrien Agreste. We saved his father from that one Akuma. The bossy one.”

“What about him?” She turns away, and he’s treated to a view of the way her blush creeps down the side of her neck.

“Well, I ran into him a couple days ago, and he asked me to give you this.” He retrieves the much-crumpled and -folded piece of paper from his pocket, and hands it over. Or tries to. She seems stunned, and he nudges the note against her fingers a couple times before they finally close around it.

“What is this?”

“Dunno,” he lies smoothly. “It wasn’t for me, so I didn’t look.”

“Right.” She’s staring at the paper, apparently so shocked she doesn’t know where to start.

He scoots up next to her, nudges her ribs. “You know, I bet you’d find out what it is if you opened it.”

She jumps, a spark coming back into her eyes as she elbows him back. “Not now, nosy. Curiosity killed the cat, you know.”

“But satisfaction brought him back.” He heaves a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. As long as you tell me what it says later. For now, I bid you farewell, my Lady.”

He clambers to his feet, stretches, bows, and bounces down from their perch. At the bottom of the tower he looks back, just in time to see Ladybug clutch the poem to her chest and bounce up and down wildly, giddy squeals reaching him on the breeze.


	2. Awkward

_What was she thinking?_

This had to be the worst idea Marinette had ever had in her entire life. What did she expect? That she’d swing into Adrien’s room, he’d be star-struck and instantly fall to his knees and propose marriage and then they’d share a kiss by the light of the stars through his windows?

Okay, maybe that possibility had occurred to her.

This certainly hadn’t.

They’re sitting on opposite ends of his couch, glancing at each other once in a while and turning away hurriedly when they saw the other looking. They’d said a grand total of seven words to each other in the half hour she’d been there. It’s by far the most awkward experience Marinette has ever been a part of. _Including_ that time she’d walked into the boy’s toilets by mistake.

He shifts, clears his throat, and she tenses in anticipation of more painful levels of embarrassment. “D-d’you like video games?”

His voice cracks in the middle of his sentence, and she looks up just in time to see him go bright red.

It’s…endearing. She smiles. “Yeah, yeah I do.”


	3. Games

She ends up picking Mariokart out of Adrien’s impressively large collection of games. Her hand had hovered over MechaStrike III for a moment before deciding against it. She knows already that he doesn’t stand a chance against her on that one.

(It’s only after she leaves that it occurs to her that she could have _let_ him win. Or possibly not; her streak of victories is a matter of _honor_.)

By the end of the first race they’re no longer so stiff with each other.

He leaps to his feet with a loud “Yeah!” as he crosses the finish line seconds in front of her, then immediately looks ashamed at his outburst.

She grins up at him, unsure what to make of his pinched lips and worried eyes. “Good job. Bet you can’t do it again.”

“And what do I get if I win?”

He claps his hands over his mouth a split second after saying it, and Ladybug tenses. Surely he hadn’t meant for it to sound as flirtatious as it did?

“W-what do you want?” she asks, nervous.

His gaze flickers down to her lips and back up, and she’s fairly certain her heart skips a beat, or three. (Is that even possible? It certainly doesn’t feel healthy.)

He clears his throat, and she realizes she must be just as red as he is now. “How about, every time I win, you tell me something about yourself. Nothing that might risk your identity!” he adds, hurriedly. “It’s just…I don’t know anything about you. But I’d like to.”

He looks so earnest and _adorable_ , and Ladybug grins. “Sounds fair. As long as I get a prize when I win too.”

Now she sounds more flirtatious than she’d meant, but she can’t find it in herself to regret it as his eyes widen just a bit. He considers for a second before tossing himself back down on the couch next to her. “You’re on.”


	4. I can show you the world

“Adrien!”

She hadn’t meant to startle him, and feels bad when he tumbles out of his computer chair.

“Ladybug?” He shakes his bangs out of his eyes, and she smothers a giggle behind one hand. “I was…I’m…um…hi.”

“Hi.” She can see that he has the Ladyblog open on his ridiculously oversized monitors, but declines to comment. “Sorry I didn’t come back earlier. I had midterms for school.”

“It’s fine, I had tests too.” He picks himself off the ground, comes over to lean against the window next to her perch on the sill. When he looks up at her, a slight smile playing about his lips, her train of thought is quite thoroughly derailed. It’s nearly the same way he looked at her that day in the rain, almost a year and a half ago now.

He clears his throat awkwardly, and she forces her eyes back into focus. “Uh, right. Sorry. I just had…I mean, if you’re not busy, I had something I wanted to show you.”

He blinks. “Yeah, I’m not busy.”

She starts to reach a hand down to him before pausing, pursing her lips in consternation. Somehow as she was planning this evening she’d managed to forget that Adrien is almost a foot taller than her. And she needs one hand free to use her yoyo, so scooping him up bridal style is hardly an option. A fireman’s carry over her shoulder, aside from being entirely undignified, would put his face directly behind her butt. Healthy body image or not, she’s not ready to deal with that thankyouverymuch.

He’s waiting patiently, and she wishes she could read the thoughts behind those green eyes. “Sorry, I…I need to carry you but I’m not sure… _how_.”

In a lesser human being the sound he makes might be described as a _snort_ ; at least he has the decency to cover his smile with one hand. “Piggy-back?”

Well, it’s better than any idea she has. She nods, tries to pretend her palms haven’t gone sweaty, drops down into his room. “So how do you think— _mmph!_ ”

She’d turned her back on him and he’d hopped right on. He’s lucky he’s so light (she can feel his ribs and pelvis jutting into her back, does anyone ever _feed_ him?) and that her reflexes are good enough to catch him under the knees until he gets settled.

They must look absolutely ridiculous, his legs hitched over her hipbones but his toes are still dangling level with her shins, and his gangly arms hang loose around her neck. But then he leans forward, breath brushing the back of her left ear and that has _no right at all_ to be so distracting.

“Ready when you are, Ladybug.”

She is _not_ going to drop the love of her life because his voice makes her go weak at the knees. She collects herself enough to smile over her shoulder. “Have you ever been to the top of the Arc de Triomphe at night?”


	5. First Love

“Are you sure no one’s going to come check on you?”

Ladybug sounds _concerned_. Adrien blinks at her. “Uh. Yes? Nathalie goes home around 8 and my father is…is busy.”

He says it matter of fact, because it is. It’s been that way for the last two years. He’s pretty much left to his own devices when not being shepherded from lessons to photoshoots and back again. Food is available on demand from the kitchen. As long as he gets enough sleep to be presentable through school (and, more importantly, photoshoots) no one cares.

But Ladybug looks deeply disturbed. He smiles, almost leans over to nudge her shoulder with his own. _You are_ not _Chat Noir right now, you can’t do that._

“Hey, this way I get to see you whenever I want.”

_Even if that line was pretty smooth if I do say so myself._

She doesn’t look impressed. She looks away, chews her lip, and grabs a piece of paper from his desk. “Here,” she mutters, scribbling on it. “Here’s my number. You can text me if you ever need anything. Even if it’s just to talk. Okay?”

“What?” He blinks, uncomprehending. “I-I told you, it’s fine. You don’t have to—“

She interrupts him with a finger over his mouth, and he shuts up sharp. “I want to. I don’t want you to be lonely. What are friends for, anyway?”

His breath stutters at _Ladybug_ referring to him as her friend. He could never imagine that she’d want to be friends with boring Adrien Agreste.

She scoots down the couch and nudges him with her knee. “Plus now you can always let me know when you need me to come kick your butt at Mariokart.”

That startles a laugh out of him, and looking at the way her blue eyes light up, Adrien falls in love all over again. When she turns up at his window the next night with a box of warm cookies, he knows that he is completely and utterly _doomed_.


	6. Everyone can see it

Alya’s the one who spots his new lock-screen. Of course she does, she has some sort of Ladybug radar. Marinette picks her head up from where she was half asleep on her desk when her friend lurches forward over the table. “How’d you get that picture? Is that a _selfie_ with Ladybug?!”

“Um…” Adrien hasn’t ever been subjected to the full force of Alya’s Ladybug fervor, and he looks more than a little stunned as she almost falls forward into his lap, grabbing at the phone. “Yeah it’s Ladybug. Um. Can you please…not?”

Alya seems to realize she’s clutching at the shirt of her best friend’s crush, and shoots a guilty look at Marinette.

She shrugs and crosses her arms for a better pillow. So maybe staying up until 3am playing games with Adrien (still the only way they can really be comfortable with each other) wasn’t the best idea.

But Alya’s not done. “How’d you get a selfie with Ladybug?”

“She came to check on me after Jacques-a-dis invaded our house.”

Briefly Marinette wonders if she should worry about how good of a liar he is, but she’s distracted by Nino.

“What, Ladybug came to see you? Like, one on one? You must have been freaking out.”

“Not really,” Adrien mumbles. Marinette cracks one eye open to watch him shift in his seat, pink tinting his ears. “She’s not…it was just…she’s pretty amazing.”

It’s the combination of soft affection in his voice and the momentary pause as he searches for words that has her turning her head to hide her face before she does something incriminating.

“Dude, you’ve got it bad, don’t you?” Nino then makes a sound that suggests that Alya just kicked him from behind, but Adrien’s already answering.

“Yeah, I guess so.”

Her fingers dig into her biceps because _Marinette Dupain-Cheng_ has no reason to squeal and giggle and kick her feet in delight over Adrien’s crush on _Ladybug_. She’s apparently unsuccessful in hiding all of her reaction, because Adrien’s attention is suddenly on her. “You okay, Marinette?”

Her head shoots up, then she rocks backwards when she finds green eyes several inches closer than she’d expected. “Fine! Yes! Great! Better than great! I’m awesome!”

She’s vaguely aware of Alya face-palming next to her, and Adrien gives her that little confused smile he does when she’s particularly incoherent. She doesn’t care, still riding high on the verbal confirmation of his feelings. Even if squealing and spinning in her giddiness will have to wait until later.


	7. Shower Scene

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I giggled all the way through writing this, not even gonna lie.

It’s after 11 pm when Adrien tumbles into his room, transformation dissolving just as his feet hit the floor. A late night ducking in the Seine had _not_ been part of his plan for the evening. He sprawls on his back, breathing ragged. Plagg barely makes it to the bed, drifting dizzily side to side before collapsing on the pillow. He’s too tired even to beg for cheese.

Adrien isn’t in much better shape, but as he’s considering just sleeping on the rug, he catches a whiff of himself.

Ugh.

Miraculous cure or not, he smells like a swamp monster. He sits up, and for the first time registers sounds that are very, very out of place.

_There’s someone in his bathroom._

He freezes, glancing over at Plagg on the bed. No luck, the Kwami’s light little snores make it clear that he’s totally out. Who would break into the Agreste mansion just to use _his_ bathroom? Unsure what else to do, he tentatively creeps over to the door, calls out, “Hello?”

“ _Adrien?”_ There’s a thump, a muffled curse, and a crash as a body hits the other side of the door. “I’m so sorry, it’s just me, sorry I didn’t realize you’d be back I was going to be done by the time you got back!”

His heart is now pounding in his ears for an entirely different reason, and he takes a deep breath. “Ladybug? Is everything okay?” Without really meaning to he’s reaching instinctively for the door handle, at the same time that she apparently realizes that leaning against a sliding door doesn’t actually do much good.

“Don’t come in!” Her voice is high with panic, and he steps back hurriedly. “I’m fine, there was an Akuma and it threw me in the river, and my parents are already asleep and the bathroom is right over their room and they’d want to know why I smelled so bad. I didn’t see you in your room so I thought I’d use your shower and tell you when you got back and I’m so so so sorry!”

He’s having a hard time processing her rapid flood of an explanation through the thought sirening at the back of his mind. Ladybug is only feet from him, detransformed and probably not wearing very much and he is going to stop that train of thought _right now_. “It’s fine. If you need anything let me know.”

 _He_ needs a cold shower. But his shower is occupied and no _stop thinking about it._

There’s a whispered conversation on the other side of the door, then Ladybug speaks again. “If you have any cookies or sweets, that would be really helpful.”

He leans his head against the cool wood. He can do this. There’s still several cookies left from her gift a few days before. “Yeah, I do. If you go around the corner, I’ll leave them just inside the door. I won’t look, I promise.”

There’s a long pause before her voice comes again, low, probably only a few inches from him. “I know. I trust you.”

His hands shake so much it takes him several moments to retrieve the box of cookies from under his bed, and he slides open the door just enough to slip them through before closing it again. Then he stumbles over to flop face-down on his bed and, when that fails to fully express his current mental state, shove his head under the pillow.

“What, you didn’t get an invitation to join her?”

“Shut _up_ , Plagg.”


	8. Jealousy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take your possessiveness and jealousy and get it far away from my happy healthy relationships plskthx

Adrien can sleep almost anywhere and anytime.It’s a result of his hectic life as student, model, and hero, and it’s both a blessing and a curse.A blessing, because he falls asleep stargazing instead of staying up all night.A curse, because he doesn’t wake up until Ladybug prods him with her toe.

“ _Yowp!”_

The noise he makes is half human squawk, half feline yowl, and all undignified.He flips into a crouch, tail stiff with surprise.Forget him, _she_ ought to come with a bell.

Ladybug smiles at him, her shoulders hitching as she smothers a giggle.“What are you doing up here, kitty?”

“Well, I _was_ having a catnap.”He yawns hugely, relaxing from his initial shock and settling from his defensive posture.He’s just glad his transformation didn’t drop while he was asleep; it would be a lot harder to explain what Adrien was doing lying on the roof.But Ladybug’s still eying him, and he can feel one of his fake ears twist uncertainly.“What?”

She sighs, sits down next to him.“You’re not jealous, are you kitty?”

“Huh?”He’s completely confused.“Jealous of…?”

She gestures at the broad roof they’re sitting on.“That I’m spending time with Adrien Agreste.”

“Oh.”Honestly it had never occurred to him, that since she knows Chat as a different person, she might worry about his reaction.He curls his legs up to his chest, hiding the lower half of his face behind his knees as he watches her.“Does he make you happy?”

She looks down, a heart-stoppingly sweet smile flickering over her lips.“Yeah, he does.”

He turns away so she can’t see his goofy grin before he replies.“Then I have no reason to be jealous.I’m just happy you’re happy.”

She scoots over to lean against him with a sigh.“I don’t deserve you, kitten.”

How can he respond to that?He settles for laying his head against hers, turning his gaze upwards again.

“So if you’re not up here plotting to murder Adrien, what are you doing on this particular roof?”

He laughs.“Stargazing.”

She elbows him lightly.“We’re in the middle of Paris.You can’t see any stars.”

“Yeah.But you can watch the moon.And you know they’re there, even if you can’t see them.”

She hums, mutters something that sounds like “silly cat”, but she doesn’t move.They sit in comfortable silence, faces turned skyward, until the distant ‘tower lights flicker out.


	9. It's a trap!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more than twice as long as any of my other fills. When I said I can finish if I don't get to ambitious THIS IS WHAT I MEANT TO AVOID. If I do this again squirt me with cold water.  
> Except tomorrow, that one needs to be long too.

In retrospect, the entire thing was completely Adrien’s fault. He started it single handedly. He was the one who reached over and ever so gently _nudged_ Ladybug’s arm, sending her racer careening over the edge of the track.

So it was entirely deserved when she reached over and prodded him in the side during the next race. However, she clearly wasn’t expecting him to make a noise akin to air being squeezed out of a balloon, and drop his remote on the floor.

Both of them stare at the fallen device for a few seconds, then at each other, and a devious grin stretches Ladybug’s lips. “Are you ticklish?” She nearly _purrs._

“No.” He tries to hide the instinctive flinch when she pokes him again, but the squeak still escapes between his clenched teeth.

Her face lights up with delight, and he could almost forgive her being a _filthy cheater_ if she just kept looking like that. But then she turns back to the screen. “The advantage is mine!”

“Hey!” He snatches up his remote and mashes the buttons frantically. Both of them are almost a lap behind now, but she’s still ahead of him and that just won’t do. He watches her out of the corner of his eye, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

It’s probably not really fair to draw on knowledge from time spent with her as Chat, but all’s fair in love and war.

And this is both.

Just as she nears a sharp bend he reaches over and runs a light finger up her spine.

Her back snaps into an arch, eyes wide, a strangled squeal bursting from her throat. He’s so distracted laughing at her that his racer runs off the same curve, but it doesn’t matter because she’s turning on him, the light of battle in her eyes.

“Oh, it is _on!_ ” She lunges for him, sending both of them sliding off the couch with a thump. Light fingers find his ribs and he writhes with a shriek, trying to reach her while nearly paralyzed with laughter. Finally he catches an ankle, attacking the bottom of her foot through the thin material of her suit. She kicks out involuntarily with the other leg, forcing him to lose his grip as he ducks.

They roll away from each other, come up several feet apart. Both of them are breathless, and Ladybug’s hair is coming loose from its ties. She’s flushed and still giggling a bit when she offers a hand. “Truce?”

“Tru—“ he starts to agree, but as soon as her fingers close around his she yanks him forward and off balance, sending him crashing to the floor and sliding over him to sit on his stomach.

“No truce.” She grins, and attacks his underarms.

“Nooo, it’s a trap!” he wails between giggles, flailing ineffectively at her arms. “An adorable trap!”

She ducks his hands, almost strangled with laughter as she gasps out, “you’re such a _dork_.”

Eventually his aggressive bucking seems to shift her, and she scoots backward until she’s straddling his thighs instead. But that brings her feet within range for him to hook his calves behind them, holding her in place as he makes a grab at her sides. Faster than he can react she pins his wrists to the floor, leaning over him as she squeals and tries to break his hold on her legs.

Both of them wriggle futilely for a few seconds before collapsing back limp, faces inches apart as they share panted breaths.

“ _Now_ truce?” he asks. His legs are shaking with strain, but he knows better than to let her up.

“Now truce,” she agrees against his neck. She sits up on her elbows to smile down at him, eyes bright and cheeks red, and he’s never seen a more beautiful sight.

He has no idea which of them moves first, but he’s leaning up and she’s leaning down and his eyes slide shut just as their lips meet.

It’s far better than anything he could ever imagine, her lips soft and parted as her breath releases in a long sigh. He’s clumsy, they both are, teeth catch and his lips are chapped and the way her upper lip is caught between his feels incredibly awkward but none of that matters because it’s _her._

He’s pushing a lot, he realizes it as he arches into her, freed hands coming up to circle her waist. He doesn’t want to breathe anything but her for the rest of his life.

However, his body has other ideas, and eventually what oxygen he can get with his nose mushed against hers isn’t enough. His head hits the floor with a thump, and his eyes flutter open.

Just in time to see her affectionate smile melt into wide-eyed shock.

Before he can say anything she’s scrambling off of him, tripping over the end of the couch into a backwards somersault. He sits up, but he doesn’t get any farther than “my La—“ before she’s up, her yoyo in her hand.

“GottagoIhadfunseeyoulaterbye!”

She leaps through the still-open window, catches herself just as she falls out of sight, and swings away into the darkness.

Adrien slumps over, his head cracking hard on the floor, and he stares unseeing up at the ceiling. Plagg drifts down from his hiding place on the second level of the room. For once the Kwami doesn’t say anything, just curls up against the side of his neck, and lets out a tiny purr.


	10. Insecurities

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Unedited (along with all the others I'm going to post now) because I just want to catch up.

She’d almost turned around that night. She’d meant to go back the next night. But then an Akuma and a French test and a shift working counter at the bakery happened, and she hadn’t made it over. Adrien seemed distracted in school, and she spent most of the day squirming with guilt behind his back.

She didn’t mean to hurt him, it had all just been too much.

So Wednesday night saw her swinging down to perch in his open window (he’d left it open, that was a good sign, right?). At first she can’t see him in the darkness, and thinks he might be out. But as she wobbles on the sill, uncertain, she hears a slight shuffle of fabric. “Hello?”

“Ladybug?” His voice sounds thick, but she hasn’t decided how to react when his bedside lamp flickers on. It looks like he’d been sprawled out on the bed, his hair sticking up wildly in the back, rubbing his eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were coming tonight.”

She leans out. “I’m sorry, if you were asleep I can leave—“

“No!” He flinches at the volume of his own hoarse voice. “I mean, I’d like you to stay, if you want.”

She steps gingerly down into the room, wary of the fragile atmosphere. “I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t mean to run. I’d just wanted to do that for a really long time and I got kinda overwhelmed.”

He nods, rubbing at his cheek with the back of his wrist. “It’s fine. I’m glad you came back.” His smile trembles at the edges, and she fiddles nervously with her fingers.

“It doesn’t seem fine.”

Instantly his expression changes. Lines of tension disappear, his entire face going blank aside from a small, polite smile. “I’m _fine_ , Ladybug.”

She pads over to his bed, sits a polite distance away from him, and stares at her feet. “I know you’re not,” she says to the floor. “You don’t have to tell me. But if it’s what I did that’s bothering you, I hope you’ll let me fix it.”

There’s a light shuffle of cloth next to her, as he swings his legs over so he’s sitting on the side of his bed too. He’s still in his jeans, and she wonders momentarily just how uncomfortable he had been.

“It’s nothing you did.” She can feel him shivering now, slight tremors shaking the mattress beside her. “Now that you came back, it’s okay. I just…got into a fight with my father.”

Her head jerks up in surprise. He’s not looking at her, but staring at his clenched hands in his lap. “My friend Nino—you met him that day with Jacques-a-dis—he’s going to be on the finale of this game show. I promised him I’d be there. I got permission and everything. Then today my father told me he’s sending me to Milan for that weekend. I tried to say no, but he…he doesn’t take that well.”

He’s crying now, silently, tears dripping from his chin, and she scoots over until she’s pressed along his side. He flinches from the contact, and she starts to apologize, leaning away. “No, don’t! I’m sorry. He just…he told me that I owe him. That everything I am is because of him. That people only want to be my friend to use me because I’m famous. I know he’s wrong! But what if he’s not?”

She can’t stand the dejection in his voice, and without thinking turns and flings herself on him. He makes a surprised little choking noise as they both topple over sideways, her arms wrapped firmly around his shoulders.

“He _is_ wrong,” she hisses into his collar. “No one only wants you around because you’re famous. That’s not why Nino wants you there. That’s not why I’m here now. We’re friends with you because you’re sweet, and kind, and funny, and…and…and he’s _wrong_!” she finishes fiercely.

He lets out something that could have been a sob or a laugh (or both), his hands coming up hesitantly to hug her back. “I’m sorry. I don’t usually…I haven’t told anyone about that. You’re easy to talk to.

She squeezes him harder. “What he said is stupid, and wrong, and you _don’t_ need to apologize.”

It’s definitely a giggle that shakes through him this time, warm breath against her hair as he nuzzles closer. “Thank you, Ladybug.”


	11. Jealous Fangirls

Of course an Akuma would happen at a fashion event.Everyone backstage is stressed, the models are stressed, even the attendees are often stressed.But it just _had_ to happen on a night that a certain Chloé Bourgeois is in attendance, and Adrien can’t very well find a place to transform when he can’t get her off his arm.

And that’s not even starting on the fact that she won’t let him get them both out of the Akumatized make-up artist’s way.

“We have to go!” he hisses at her, trying to pull her out from under the seats where they’d taken temporary shelter.“We can get out to the atrium, then upstairs.”

Chloé hmmphs, clinging onto him tighter, dead weight holding him in place.“No way!I know Ladybug will come, and I’m not going anywhere until she gets here.”

He grits his teeth and lets out a long breath through his nose, but before he can say anything the seats above them go flying.The Akuma leans over them, wild green-streaked hair falling in her face as she laughs.“I know you!You’re that model for Gabriel.Now you have time for me, don’t you?”

He’s scooting back across the floor as fast as he can with Chloé yanking at his arm, mind racing to find a way out of this, when a familiar red and black blur wraps around the Akuma, pinning her hands.The woman is yanked backwards off her platform heels, and before she can regain her feet Ladybug has slung Adrien over her shoulder and zipped both of them up to the balcony seats.

“Wait!” he manages as she dumps him unceremoniously into a chair.“Chloé!”

She groans but makes the trip back down to snatch the blonde, who is now loudly complaining that if she’s going to die she doesn’t want it to be at the hands of someone with broken nails.

“You can both get out if you hurry, she hasn’t blocked the exits yet.”

Ladybug is brisk and businesslike, as she always is during a fight, but when she meets Adrien’s eyes she hesitates.He doesn’t have a chance to react as she leans over, pressing a light kiss to his cheek.“Stay safe.”

Then she’s gone, swinging away over the enraged Akuma’s head.

Adrien’s left speechless, one hand coming up to brush where he can still feet her lips against his skin.

A sharp squirm from his breast pocket yanks him back to the present.Right.Transform.Help.

He turns to leave, and meets Chloé’s wide-eyed gaze.

“Um…”He’s not sure what to say to explain _that_ , and they blink at each other in silence for long moments.

Finally Chloé gets her face back under control, jaw snapping shut as her gaze drops to study her nails.“Well, I always knew Ladybug had good taste.”


	12. You have her smile

Chat barely makes it back inside the venue before Ladybug, catching Plagg and stuffing the Kwami back into his pocket just as she bounces in the window behind him.

“Adrien?” He flinches at how confused she sounds. “Why didn’t you get out?”

He turns, just in time for her to grab him around the middle and squeeze. His breath huffs out and she apologizes, stepping away hurriedly. “I did, but once you and Chat Noir lured the Akuma away I came back in.”

He hates lying to her, he really does. He’s so strained after the fight on top of dealing with Chloé that he almost blurts out his secret then and there. Fortunately (or unfortunately) he’s interrupted by Chloé’s strident voice from downstairs, calling for him.

Ladybug sees his flinch, and bites her lip, hand going up to touch the four spots left on her earrings. But then Chloé calls out again, and that seems to make up her mind.

“Come on.”

Her arm snakes around his waist, his loop around her shoulders, and she swings them both out the window just as Chloé comes up the stairs. He yelps as his feet suddenly leave the floor, clinging to her as she sweeps him up to the roof and lets go.

“I don’t think the exposition is going to restart any time soon, and you can stay up here until your ride comes,” she explains, blushing a bit. “I know it’s not quite as comfortable, but there’s no Chloé.”

That startles a laugh out of him. “It _is_ much more pleasant up here, I think. Thank you.”

She ducks her head, and he gets a glimpse of his favorite smile. The quiet one he only ever sees as Adrien. The one that reminds him so much of his mother. It’s the final nudge for him to lean in and kiss her cheek, right where she’d kissed him. “You’re amazing."


	13. Gabriel's reaction

Adrien didn’t expect to be summoned up to his father’s study the next day. In fact, as far as he knew, his father was in London for the rest of the week. So it’s with some trepidation that he makes his way to the imposing solid oak door, and knocks.

“Come in.”

That’s Nathalie’s voice, not his father’s, and his heart gives a sick thud. If they’re both going to confront him, he’s in _big_ trouble. However, his face is schooled into careful blankness when he opens the door. “You wanted to see me?”

Well, that was not the message he got, there was just a 15 minute “meeting” block on the schedule Nathalie had handed him this morning.

His father is seated behind the desk, hands folded in front of him, eyes unreadable as always. Adrien clasps his hands behind his back, posture straight, refusing to speak first.

There are a few things he might be in trouble for—ditching his bodyguard to see a movie with Plagg, sneaking out of fencing for an arcade run with Nino, turning up late to a photoshoot because of an Akuma—and he has an excuse ready for each. All he needs is to know which it was.

He’s _not_ prepared for his father to tap the screen of his tablet, spinning it around to show Adrien the picture on the display. His stomach clenches, but he refuses to let his surprise show on his face.

“An amateur photographer documenting the aftermath of the Akuma caught and published this. Care to explain?”

It takes him a long moment to speak around his pounding pulse. “Ladybug saved me from the Akuma. I was thanking her.”

Gabriel’s eyebrows rise, clearly not buying that _thanking her_ had necessitated a kiss, even if just on the cheek. “Adrien, give me your phone.”

His entire body goes cold. “No.” Even this small bit of resistance has him shaking, tremors in his fingers that he keeps hidden behind his back.

His father sighs. “Part of our understanding was that you would not allow your peers to distract you from your obligations. While that group may not include Ladybug, she is clearly a potential bad influence. I do not want you associating with her.

“Nathalie pointed out that if I pull you out of school you will simply persist in sneaking out, so I will settle for taking your phone.” He extends an imperious hand, expression going sharp when he doesn’t move. “ _Now_ , Adrien.”

Silent and mutinous, Adrien hands over the device. It’s set not to display incoming messages and locked with a fingerprint. He doubts his father is dedicated enough to hire someone to break into it. He watches as it’s pocketed, refusing to acknowledge Nathalie’s sigh behind him.

Gabriel folds his hands again, watching his son over his intertwined fingers. “I don’t want you getting too familiar with Ladybug. It could be—“

“Dangerous?” he flares, temper breaking his restraint. “That’s what you said about school, and friends, and leaving the house at all!”

He didn’t know what he’d expected in response, but it certainly wasn’t an indulgent smile.

“Very well. You make a good point. Your phone will be returned to you whenever you leave the house for any reason, so that you can contact your bodyguard or Nathalie in an emergency. An Akuma attack _does_ constitute an emergency, and I expect at least one of them to hear from you in that situation.”

Adrien clenches his fists, grinds his teeth. Of course his father would take any opportunity to restrict his freedom. Fine. It looked like Adrien would be conveniently “losing” his phone as often as possible.

He doesn’t wait for a dismissal before he stomps out of the room, taking a great deal of pleasure in Nathalie’s gasp of surprise.


	14. It's not you, it's my enemies

She didn’t really have a specific expectation for her reception when she swung in through Adrien’s window. However, this was quite possibly the last thing on her mind.

Within seconds of her feet touching the floor she’s swept into a crushing embrace, Adrien’s nose tucked just under her ear, and his shaky sigh gusts against her neck. “Um, hi.”

Her arms come up hesitantly around his back, and she makes a concerned little noise as he pulls away slightly. But then he’s leaning down, breath light over her lips, and she freezes. He pauses, clearly giving her a time to pull away—yeah, right—before catching her in a breath-stealing kiss.

Almost literally. Her surprised gasp is met with a low groan and teeth nip at her lip before she can inhale. His hands at the small of her back are the only thing holding her up as he presses harder into her.

It takes her a second to catch up, distracted by the fact that _every romantic daydream she’s ever had_ is coming true all at once. But this feels…off. The pound of his heart against her ribs and the note of desperation in the sharp little exhales against her mouth are _wrong_.

She tenses, and the instant she does he pulls away, out of breath and flushed. They stare at each other in the dark of his room, and she finds her voice first. “I don’t…I’m not complaining but that…why?”

A flash of frustration crosses his face, and his hands around her waist finally release only to fist in his hair as he groans. “I’m sorry, that wasn’t fair. I…I don’t know what that was.”

She tightens her arms around him, leaning against his chest and counting the rapid-fire thuds against her ear. “You’re not okay.”

He stiffens, then lets out a little laugh against the top of her head. “Father issues again. Nothing to worry about. I just really wanted to do…that. I mean!”

His heartbeat had finally started to slow, and now it leaps back into overdrive.

“I’m not trying to…to use you or something I just…he told me to stay away from you and I don’t want to.”

He sounds plaintive, and she pulls away to blink up at him. “How does he even know you know me?”

“A photographer caught a picture of us together, after the Akuma.”

Her blood goes to ice in her veins, and she yanks away from him sharply. “Ladybug?”

“No. No, no, no, no, _no_!” she moans, shaking her head and stumbling away from his outstretched hand. “This wasn’t supposed to happen, this shouldn’t have happened. No one was supposed to know!”

She realizes right after the words left her mouth that she’d said the wrong thing. Hurt flashes across his face for a split second before he turns away from her.

“Okay.” It would have been better if he’d shouted, or shown any kind of emotion at all. Instead he just compresses into himself, both arms folded across his stomach as if in reaction to physical pain. “I’m sorry.”

She has no idea what to do with this, with the resignation in his voice, and she stands trembling about six feet away from where he has sat down on the couch.

“Adrien…” He turns away from her fully, curling his knees up to his chest, and she can see the ridges of tense tendons in his arms. “Adrien, I didn’t mean to put you in danger. I’m sorry.”

No response. One of her feet shuffles back and forth across his carpet, then she takes a single hesitant step closer. “If your father knows then Hawkmoth must know. You didn’t ask for any of this and I’m sorry.”

He winces, shoulder twitching as if she’d struck a physical blow. “I don’t care about Hawkmoth.”

The words come sharply, and she stumbles back a few paces. “But I…he knows that I care about you. Volpina was bad enough, now more Akumas will come after you because he _knows_ I care about you and you could get hurt and I never should have come in the first place and I’m so, so sorry.”

He’s shaking, and she wishes more than anything she could see his face as he keeps his back to her. Her fists clench and relax at her sides, and she glances hesitantly toward the window, wondering if she should leave. One step forward, one back, then she gives into her selfishness and strides around his couch to face him.

He ducks his head under his crossed arms, but not before she sees the tears on his cheeks. “I’ll leave, if you want me to.”

He shakes his head, curls impossibly tighter into himself.

“Adrien, I don’t know what to do. Please, talk to me.” She doesn’t mean to sound so helpless, but he gives a shaky sigh.

“I don’t know either. I don’t care about Hawkmoth and I don’t care about Akumas and I won’t ask you to stay if you don’t want to but I’m tired of planning my life around being afraid.”

It was the terror in his eyes when his arms drop a fraction that breaks her. With a clumsiness she usually only displays in her civilian life she tumbles over the back of the couch, landing nearly in his lap and cracking one forearm painfully against his shins on her way. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not leaving. I’m just…afraid.”

She’s sprawled awkwardly half on top of him, one bony knee digging into her stomach, but she’s not about to move. “I care about you, and I could never forgive myself if something happened to you because of me.”

He breathes out, a long body-shuddering exhale. “For a second I thought you were ashamed to be seen with me.”

“What?” She lurches backwards to scowl at his face, which is annoyingly perfect even when blotched with tears. “You’re…you’re…you’re wonderful and I wish I could be seen with you all the time because maybe then I could believe myself that I get to see you. The real you I mean. It’s just…Hawkmoth.”

He blinks at her, rubs his eyes. “O-okay.” He still sounds unsure, and she curls around him, clinging to his larger body like a determined koala.

“As soon as Hawkmoth is defeated, it’ll be over. We can go on a real date, like normal people, instead of sneaking around, and if that isn’t serious motivation to take him down I don’t know what is.”

He stares, then gives a rough little giggle, and she realizes what she said. It feels like all the blood in her body is rushing to her face, and she tries to stutter an excuse. He lets her splutter for a few seconds before taking pity. “Ladybug, as soon as Hawkmoth is gone, will you go on a date with me?”

That shuts her up, and she manages a squeaky, “yes.”

At last he uncurls to return her embrace, and she slumps into his arms, relieved. They’re not okay, not entirely, but they’ll get there together.


	15. Secret Dating

Marinette’s in class when her phone goes off, the chime loud in the silence of physics, and Madame Mendeleiev’s head whips around.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll turn it off,” she mutters, trying to retrieve her phone without accidentally dislodging Tikki from her purse. It dings again before she manages to switch it off, and the professor’s nostrils flare dangerously. “I’m sorry, it’s off!”

She faces down the stare, a contrite smile on her face, until Madame Mendeleiev sniffs and wanders toward her desk in the back corner.

“Jeez, I thought Madame Monster was going to eat you alive,” Alya hisses in her ear, and Marinette shushes her.

“It’s not _my_ fault! Why are you texting me in class?”

Alya blinks at her. “It wasn’t me.”

Marinette has no time to contemplate this, because a pair of spindly hands slam into the desk between them, startling screams from many of their classmates. “No. Talking.”

She doesn’t get a chance to check her phone until the lunch hour, and when she sees the two messages displayed on her lockscreen she can’t help but grin.

-Can you come over tonight, please?-

Followed immediately by:

-This is Adrien, by the way.-

_Nino’s right, he does text like a grandpa._

She takes a second to appreciate the adorableness of his over-formal texting before composing her reply.

-I have hw, be there @10-

She saves the unknown number simply as Adrien, no embellishments, much as she wants to. She’d deleted his in a fit of terror after the voicemail fiasco. She returns to class with a spring in her step, and she certainly doesn’t miss the way Adrien grins all through French.

* * *

She’s made three laps of the fourth arrondissement by ten, having transformed as soon as she’d tanked through her homework in record time. But she’d given a time and she sticks to it, listening to the bells of Notre Dame ring out each quarter hour. As soon as the bells start to toll for ten she’s swinging down through Adrien’s window.

She manages a smooth landing and a heroic pose she hopes looks unintentional—then stumbles over her own feet when she sees what he’s set up.

His desk has been dragged to the middle of his room, divested of the usual computer equipment. Two meals are laid on either end, and Adrien is standing next to it, shifting from foot to foot, red from his collar to his hairline, a small spray of flowers clutched in his right hand.

“I-I know we can’t go on a real date but I thought…” He looks slightly desperate, and she covers her mouth with her hands lest he interpret her giggles of delight as being mocking.

“It’s _perfect_ , Adrien, thank you.”

He goes even redder, if that’s possible, and abruptly thrusts the flowers at her. They’re a bit wilted where he’d squeezed them tight enough to crush the stems, and she’s never been given a more wonderful gift in her life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I _live_ for Adrien being an awkward little kitten. You cannot tell me he'd be smooth in this situation.


	16. Window kisses

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We earned the T rating in this one. Whoops.

Much as she would like to stay forever, it is a school night for both of them, and when midnight rolls around she’s perched on his windowsill. She fiddles with her yoyo, sending it whizzing down to the floor and back up again, not meeting his eyes.

They were more comfortable with each other than she’d managed to achieve in a year and a half of knowing him as a civilian. There’s something _familiar_ about their banter, and she tries hard not to think about it. Not when it’s _Adrien Agreste_ looking up at her like she holds the stars in her hands.

“I-I have to go.”

She leans out slightly, but makes no move to act on her statement. He steps forward, and she freezes instantly. He’s inches from her knees, where her legs are still dangling into his room; she could swing out her toes and touch his waist, if she wanted. She resists, kicking her heels lightly against the bottom half of the window.

“Ladybug, I…” he cuts himself off, shifts his weight, and steps forward again. She spreads her thighs to accommodate him, flushing as his arms come up to circle her waist. “Can I kiss you?”

She nods, possibly over-eager, hoping it’s not too obvious that she’s trying to work spit into her suddenly sandpaper-dry mouth. He leans up on his tiptoes, and she leans down. Their lips have barely touched when she feels the sickening lurch in her stomach as her center of gravity shifts, and there’s no saving it.

With a muffled yelp she tips right onto him, and his knees give out under the sudden weight. It’s lucky she had a hand behind his head, so the shock of impact crushes her fingers instead of his skull. Still, it feels like they were both knocked silly, as they stare wordlessly at each other.

Then they’re both laughing, foreheads resting together through their giggles. He arches up and kisses her again, but neither of them has any self control and it’s more an awkward bump of half-open lips. Which somehow sets them both off even more.

She’d landed straddling his waist, and between laughter and kissing her legs give out, so she collapses down onto him, arms looped tight around his neck. His are around her chest, pressing her down, long-fingered hands splayed against her ribs on either side.

Vaguely she wonders if she should be starting to feel warm in very interesting places when they both have spit smeared on their chins and keep sputtering against the other’s mouth. But that draws her attention to just how much drool there is on her face and oh my god it’s _humiliating_.

The heat of embarrassment replaces the heat of…other things…and she breaks away. He blinks up at her, eyes hooded and unfocused, lips wet and flushed, and she can see so much _want_ in him that she squeaks and ducks her head. Her nose tucked against his neck, she tries to subtly wipe her chin on her suit.

He sighs, coughs lightly, and shifts awkwardly. “I-it’s late. You should probably get home, right?”

The absolute last thing she wants to do right now is move, when he’s wonderfully warm and solid beneath her, each breath lifting her by a few inches. But her eyelids already feel heavy, and with a groan of agreement she sits up.

Making her way to the window is slowed by multiple kisses, light chaste pecks as he sits up, stands up, follows her. Finally she hitches herself onto the windowsill, out of his reach, and he sighs. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”


	17. Late for class

Marinette is on her way into school with a smile on her face and a spring in her step, when her phone chimes in her pocket. She immediately halts, recognizing the ringtone, and checks the text. She can feel a blush rise in her cheeks as she reads, and with a quick glance around she settles against the railing of the stairs to text back. She’s running _early_ , for once, she has plenty of time.

**-Good morning, Ladybug!**

**I’m sorry you got home so late last night, I got kinda carried away.-**

She smiles, feet tapping a happy rhythm on the concrete step while she replies.

**-No no its fine! I wasn’t exactly complaining!-**

There’s silence in response, and she fiddles with her apps while she waits.

**-Okay! I was having a good time too. I didn’t want you to leave.-**

She blushes harder, stares at the text, picks at the fabric of her capris, stares at her phone more.

**-I didnt want to leave either. I had to.**

**because**

**you know**

**school-**

He takes a long time to respond, those three little dots flashing on and off and on again.

**-The way you text is cute. It suits you.-**

Is this boy _trying_ to kill her? She couldn’t even formulate a response for long minutes, overcome with giggles and embarrassed squeals.

**-Thank you! I mean I just**

**type like I think-**

He starts to respond, then suddenly stops typing. She watches the open conversation with bated breath, but that little bubble doesn’t pop up again. It’s Tikki tapping her leg through her purse and whispering “Marinette, the _time_ ,” that finally distracts her.

Her eyes fly up to the numbers at the top of the screen. “Ten minutes _late_?” She lurches to her feet, trips down several steps, and sprints for class.


	18. Alya's NOTP

Lucky (ha!) for her Madame Bustier isn’t paying attention as she slides in the door, but others are. Nino looks overjoyed, Alya sullen, and Adrien—

Adrien is staring straight ahead, red up to the tips of his ears.

She eyes him as she creeps into her seat. “What’s going on?” she whispers to Alya.

“Adrien got busted texting in class. And Madame Bustier read his texts out loud.”

Oh no. They hadn’t heard the entire conversation, had they?

“Loverboy here was flirting instead of paying attention! And you’ll never guess who with!” Nino sounds remarkably cheerful for someone being repeatedly kicked under the table. “Ladybug!”

“Nino!” Adrien hisses, his blush creeping around the back of his neck now. “Stop telling people!”

Alya glares too, aiming her own sharp kick at his back. “Yeah, cut it out!”

“What’s up with you?” Marinette asks, confused. Normally Alya is ecstatic to get any news even vaguely related to Ladybug, but right now the journalist looks _murderous_.

“This isn’t right!” Alya grumps at her. “Ladybug and Chat Noir are made for each other, and, well…” She glances down at Adrien, who is all-too-clearly listening in. “Don’t you worry, girl, I’m going to fix this.”

Marinette starts to argue, but Alya has that particularly mulish look that means there’s no stopping her now. She’ll just have to hope that a spotted spandex suit will be enough to protect her from the inevitable fallout.


	19. Identity slip up

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not as happy with this as I wanted to be but, well, I just want to power through the last few prompts. *shrug*

Adrien has been pacing for so long that his feet ache, but every time he sits down his heart pounds so hard he feels like he’s strangling, and he goes back to his endless circles. He pauses momentarily beside his desk, peeks at the pink card and scrap of paper pinner to his wall, compares the paper in his hand. Still the same, though the sticky note he’s holding is starting to smear from his continuous sweaty grip. It’s almost ten o’clock, where is she?

He’s left the window open in invitation, but when he finally hears the soft impact of her feet against his floor he stiffens, turns his face to the wall. Oh god, he’s not ready for this he can’t do this he betrayed her he _can’t_ …

“Hey, sorry, I got caught up in stuff with my parents.”

Her voice is cheerful, and he flinches. For a second he almost backs out, almost hides behind that emotionless mask, but he can’t. He _won’t_ lie to her. He lies to his father and Nathalie and his friends and he will _not_ lie to her.

Her footsteps falter as she realizes something is wrong. “Um…Adrien? Are you…okay?” She edges closer, nearly silent.

“I’m sorry,” he says to the wall, further crumpling the paper in his right hand. “I didn’t mean to. I messed up.”

She stops, breath catching. “What? What happened?”

He can’t face her, so he holds the paper up over his shoulder. It’s too wadded to read, but he hears the sharp hiss of surprise when she recognizes the bright orange color. “A-alya gave me your phone number. Not Ladybug’s, yours.”

There’s a long silence behind him, followed by a sharp thump. He whirls, then runs to where she’s seated on the floor, skidding on the carpet in his haste. She’s staring vacantly into space, face white, and he can’t imagine how he didn’t make the connection because those wide scared blue eyes are painfully familiar. Worst of all, when he touches her shoulder her focus snaps onto him, pupils blown with _fear_.

“Hey. I won’t tell anyone. I promise, Ladybug, I wouldn’t. I…I know you didn’t want anyone to know, Mari—“

She winces at the sound of her name, and he snaps his mouth shut. They stare at each other, both shaking, and he can’t think of anything to say.

She breaks the contact, blinking and turning away. “I’m sorry, Adrien. I should’ve told you. I shouldn’t have lied, you probably hate me now—“

“What?” He rears back, stunned. “Of course I don’t hate you! I…Marinette, please look at me?”

She turns, but she doesn’t raise her eyes past the level of his chest. Whatever, close enough. “I’m not upset. I’m not! The second time I met Ladybug, I knew I loved her. No matter who it was behind the mask. And then the very next day at school I met Marinette, and thought I made my first friend. Ever. I saw you stand up to Chloé, and win father’s contest, and your speech for class president, and I don’t know how I didn’t make the connection. I didn’t mean to find out, I really didn’t, and I’m sorry.”

Her eyes finally flicker up to his face, and he swallows nervously. “You trusted me, and I…I still found out. I’m sorry.”

He reaches out, and she flinches back. “No Adrien I don’t…I can’t…I can’t do this tonight, I have to go.”

She ducks around his hand, stumbles to her feet, and sprints over to vault out the window, leaving him alone in his dark room.


	20. Love spell

Pain-maker is officially the scariest Akuma they have ever faced. She’s silent and eerie, floating a few inches off the ground, limp bare feet dangling. Her hair hangs slack from her bowed head, creating a curtain around her face. An ankle-length black silk dress trails torn hems and seams, fluttering in the slightest breeze. She sneaks up on unsuspecting civilians, catching them quickly and lightly caressing their cheeks. Her victims are left paralyzed and whimpering, collapsed shaking on street corners.

Marinette only realized something was wrong when she ran into Alya along their usual route to school. The journalist was pressed up against the fence around the park, hands clamped tight over her ears, sobbing, “make it stop, make it stop, make it stop.”

A quick transformation, and she catches up with the Akuma a few blocks away. Chat joins her a few minutes later, tense, his tail twitching behind his back. “Please tell me her name is a pun about bread,” he quips as he lands beside her, but it’s half-hearted at best.

She’s worried, but with the thought of having to face Adrien after this fight is over, she has her own problems to concentrate on. “Don’t let her touch you,” is all she says before launching herself off the building.

Twenty minutes later they’re no closer to stopping her, and both of them are getting frustrated. She’s shockingly fast, lashing out at any movement, pale hands grasping. The Akuma has to be in the pendant around her neck, but every time they get close she drives them back. She floats over obstacles, so clearly using Cataclysm to trip her up isn’t going to work.

Whatever it is she does to her victims it can’t be good, and Ladybug isn’t eager to find out. But Chat loses patience long before she does.

“Enough of this,” he growls, flexing his claws. “It doesn’t look like she does anything physical or permanent. Use your Lucky Charm while I have her distracted.”

“Wait, Chat—“ but he’s already dashing off, leaping at the Akuma’s back with a yowl.

Quick as lightening she spins, one hand knocking aside his fingers, the other running over his cheek, deceptively gentle. He goes limp, arms falling slack against his sides. Ladybug cries his name, but his vacant eyes are fixed on the Akuma’s face, and as she leaps to his rescue she can hear the girl’s quiet murmur. “Oh, yes, so much love in your heart. Isn’t it wonderful?”

Well, that doesn’t sound so bad. Ladybug hesitates, wondering if he might be immune to the attack after all. But then the other hand comes up to tenderly cup his jaw, and she croons, “but what happens when you lose that person? Let me show you just how much love _hurts_.”

His body convulses, legs going out from beneath him, face twisting in agony.

The Akuma releases him with a satisfied little hum, and that jolts Ladybug out of her shock. “Get away from him!”

The girl’s hands come up defensively as soon as she gets too close, and she dances away, muttering curses under her breath. Chat is utterly silent on the ground, and there’s something disturbingly familiar about the way he curls up, shoulders shaking with sobs that he muffles behind clenched teeth. When she takes a tentative step forward his rolling eyes focus on her face with fierce determination. His pupils have contracted to the barest slits, devoid of sense, and she shivers.

This needs to end. Now.

For once the use of her Lucky Charm is easy to deduce, and she fits the polka-dotted oven mitts over the Akuma’s hands without much difficulty. She winces when she sees the necklace the Akuma had lodged in, a gold wire half heart, clearly meant to fit with another half. It crumples easily between her fingers, releasing the poisonous little insect, and she purifies it as fast as she can.

She’s almost afraid to turn, to look at her partner, but she does. He’s sitting up, tears still slipping down his cheeks despite her miraculous cure, looking lost.

If she were thinking clearly she would have controlled her reaction, wouldn’t have dropped to her knees and flung herself half into his lap, wouldn’t have held him so tight that her arms shake with effort. But she’s not, and she does, and he crumples into her embrace. She can feel tears against her neck and he mumbles, breath hot against her collar, “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you, I’m sorry.”

She doesn’t respond but she doesn’t push him away, waiting until the ambulance and police cars and press vans show up, and he sits up on his own. She lets him go, and he gives her a brittle little smile before he goes to comfort the victim, as usual.

He always does that, she realizes. She answers press questions and receives the city’s thanks, and he makes sure the victim is recovering.

This time she avoids the reporters, taking shelter on a nearby roof, peeking down at the slim black figure sitting next to the young woman in the ambulance, and wonders why holding him had felt so right.


	21. Desperate kiss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Have I mentioned how much I love the kiss reveal? Because I really, really do.

He joins her less than a minute later, eyes dry, face set. She doesn’t say anything as her earrings beep their three-minute warning. He leans against a chimney, arms folded, still trembling. One look at his face and she knows it’s not fear or grief, but suppressed anger.

“Hawkmoth has gone too far this time,” he growls. “He Akumatized a five-year-old, and now this. That woman’s fiancée died in a car wreck a week ago. Her boss called today and tried to cut her bereavement leave short. Now she’s blaming herself because the last thing she remembers is wishing everyone would hurt as much as she did. This was too far. We have to stop him.”

His voice breaks as he finishes, and she looks over, head down so she’s peeping through her bangs. He meets her eyes, and some of the rage in his face drains away. She reaches out, lets him draw her into a tight hug.

“She made me feel what it’s like to lose you. She made me watch you die and know that there was nothing I could do to bring you back.”

The intensity in his voice scares her a bit, and when he draws away, tips her chin up with one finger, she knows exactly what he’s about to do.

But everything else in her life has gone upside-down in the past few days, why not this too? She makes no move to stop him, and when he starts to pull away instead, shaking with the effort it costs him, she rocks up on her toes and kisses him soundly.

He gasps against her lips, but then his hands tangle in her hair and he’s kissing her breathless, desperate, lips still salty with his tears.

And everything comes together. There is no doubt whatsoever in her mind just _who_ she is kissing. She tugs him in with a whimper, pulling at silky blond locks to get him as close as physically possible.

It’s only when her earrings give their final beep that he wrenches away. “I’m sorry, Ladybug, I shouldn’t—“

She shushes him, heart pounding furiously at what she’s about to do. “No. Don’t apologize. But—“ Her transformation dissolves in a flash of pink, and he shuts his eyes tight. “It’s okay! I…Adrien, please look at me.”

He twitches when she says his name, eyes flying open reflexively, and she offers a tremulous smile. “Well, you have to have your eyes open if you’re going to get me down from here.”


End file.
